


Quiet

by entanglednow



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-14
Updated: 2008-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is prodding him again, foot pushing against his hair in a way that won't be ignored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet

Arthur is prodding him again, foot pushing against his hair, in a way that won't be ignored.

Merlin ignores it.

One of Arthur's toes jabs him in the ear.

Merlin flounders in the dark, only barely awake, makes a quiet protesting, groaning noise, and catches the offending limb, before mostly squashing it under his own arm.

It twitches there for a second, and Merlin half thinks he's killed it, which he blames on being only half awake.

But it slithers free, and the blankets shift, sending cold air streaking along every inch of exposed skin.

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice is in his ear, which suggests either he's turned around or he's discovered how to fold in half. Even Merlin can't do that, and he can do _magic_.

"I'm asleep," Merlin says under his breath. "You probably should be too."

He can feel Arthur's breath across the side of his neck.

Merlin sighs, and rolls his head to the side.

"What's wrong?" he asks quietly.

Arthur frowns at him in the darkness. Then slides his fingers through Merlin's relaxed ones, drags his hand down between them, and presses it into the solid line of his cock.

Merlin makes a ragged noise in his throat, and Arthur leans down and crushes it back into his mouth, one leg sliding between Merlin's. Merlin can't help digging his fingers into the loose material of Arthur's shirt and pulling, pulling until Arthur's weight is pressing him down into the floor.

His kisses are harder, the slow push down of his hips a quiet, pointed demand that Merlin doesn't have the breathe to refuse, and it's impossible not to be dragged slowly to hardness under that pressure, under Arthur's mouth.

"Arthur."

"Shush." Arthur pulls his head back, lets him breathe cold air.

"We're going to wake Gwen and Morgana," Merlin says breathlessly. Arthur slides his hand over his mouth.

"Only if you keep talking." Arthur's voice has that low, shivery quality that Merlin has developed a _terrible_ weakness for. He moves his hand, uses it to push the blankets out of the way, then seems intent on untangling cloth and finding the warm, bare edge of Merlin's waist.

"Do you want me to-" Merlin licks his lips.

Fingers dig into his sides, hard.

"If you think for one minute I could stay quiet with your mouth on me," Arthur hisses against the edge of his throat, and Merlin feels a ridiculous thrum of pride at that, which just as quickly slides into heat as Arthur pulls at his laces, hands tight on the waistband of his breeches, before slowly easing them down.

Merlin tips his head back to swallow, to _breathe_ , while Arthur shoves at his own waistband and then presses down into him again, bare skin and heat. They're as hard as each other now, and Merlin shifts, finds Arthur's hips with his nails and pulls on instinct.

Arthur pushes down at the same time.

Merlin gasps, and Arthur's hand is across his mouth, warm and hard. Merlin breathes through his nose while Arthur slides his head sideways, checks Gwen and Morgana and finds them still sleeping, he breathes long and relieved through his teeth.

Arthur leaves his hand there for a long moment, leaves it pressed down over his mouth while he pushes up, and into him, maddeningly slowly, and Merlin breathes roughly through his nose, and makes tight noises in his throat.

Arthur's hand eventually slides free, braces against the floor, and Merlin finds himself desperately murmuring Arthur's name and Arthur's breath goes deep and hoarse.

"Quiet," he says desperately, though Merlin can tell by the quick, graceless pushes of his hips that he wants anything but. Merlin digs his fingers in skin and muscle, feels it shift with every push, and he bites back a thousand noises he wants to make.

Arthur's long shuddery breath when he comes sounds so loud, so _impossibly_ loud, and Merlin buries his face in Arthur's hair and breathes, desperately while his body comes apart.


End file.
